Page 77 of King of Ashes
Gripping my neck, he applies just the right amount of pressure. My life is in his hands. It’s exhilarating and terrifying, making me even more wanton.
This man breaks me and rebuilds me into something else. I can’t do a thing to stop him. I don’t even want to.
He has mastered this maddening rhythm from hard to gentle, and as he alternates between them, I lose all notion of whether I am still alive or drifting into ecstasy, floating in sensation.
Then he switches me onto my belly, folding me––my arms stretched out with my knees tucked to my chest as he takes me from behind.
I grip the sheet, panting, a sheen of sweat coating my skin while he demands everything from my body and drenches me in pleasure. He wasn’t joking when he said I might black out, seeing entire galaxies burst in front of my eyes.
Tears well in my eyes as I fall into ecstasy, the experience overwhelming.
I come again, squeezing him, and that triggers his release. Filling me, he growls, sounding more animal than human.
Sated, boneless, and deliciously sore, he gathers me into his lap, kissing my flushed face and swollen lips. With a strength I didn’t know I still possessed, I wrap my arms around his neck.
It’s a sweet moment, the opposite of the carnal mating, before he hardens once again under me.
“How is this possible?” I breathe out as he enters me again.
I am so sensitive, I hiss, and he rubs circles on my skin but doesn’t stop. With every push, my addiction overpowers me, and I would do anything for another euphoric kick. Accept the pain for one moment of utter delight.
He made a mess of my pussy, sticky with my juices and his cum, stuffed with his trunk of a damn cock.
He’s relentless. I am insatiable.
The sun has long set as I drift between sleepiness and wakefulness with him gently pushing in and out of me.
He is a man of his word. As the day turns into night, it feels like I’ve ridden an endless orgasm without pause.
My hair sticks to my face, sweat covering me, and he gently tucks the strands back, brushing his lips on my forehead.
I am swollen. My breasts, my pussy, my lips. He kissed, licked, and nibbled every inch of my skin, yet he hasn’t had enough.
I am just a web of nerves. One touch from him and I light up, electrified with want.
Overcome by pleasure. For more. Simply more.
My body has melted into clay he expertly molds to his incessant desire.
“So long… You don’t know how long I’ve been craving you. Dreamed about you, wished for you, prayed for you, and waited for a wonder.”
He fucked me mindless because I hear his words but can’t make sense of them, even if their impact is life-altering. My heart beats like a drum, echoing his name.
“Give me one more, baby.”
My head thrashes from one side to the other, whining. “I want to. I really do, but I can’t.”
He looks like a sculpture––male strength and carnal temptation in one.
“My good girl can do anything.”
I giggle, elated, feeling I belong with this conundrum of a man, this stranger who feels like a part of my soul.
“You have too much trust in me…” I breathe out.
He hits that exact spot that delivers me straight into bliss’s arms, and my eyes roll back, overcome by rapture.
Smirking, he tugs at my nipples. The contact sends a jolt through my body, rewiring me, and a wave of sensations floodsme as he sucks on one nipple and twists the other. I grind against him, a greedy woman turned into a needy slut craving more. Could you die from too much pleasure? It sure feels like it as I fall, the abyss stretching before me, enveloping me like the quintessential lover.
